


Jack the Stag, and Other Works Penned by the Esteemed Songstress Sombra

by gyromitra



Series: Totally Not A Witcher AU (only it is) [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (the author really tried to create a conversation in Elder Speech), Bad Puns, Dryads - Freeform, Giant Bugs, Idiots in Love, M/M, Murder-Deer, Pinecones, Witcher AU (Books more than the games/tv show), personal-bad-witcher-AU-because-why-not, rants about weasels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:29:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyromitra/pseuds/gyromitra
Summary: Two witchers on the Trail together, an unusual occurrence - and maybe it is even stranger than that.Also, giant bugs, dryads, and ecology.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Series: Totally Not A Witcher AU (only it is) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614064
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If You've read 'The Fern Flower', this takes place between the middle part and the ending (which, admittedly, is not the ending of the in-universe story as a whole).  
> If You haven't read 'The Fern Flower', some character interactions might be a little bit confusing - but I think it might be more fun trying to piece it together then.  
> (Don't come at me with lore, I know it pretty well, I'm just picking and choosing what I want.)

The woman in her chemise leaning over the brim of the wooden tub struggles to her feet with fright when Jack barges into the room.

"You didn't pay for the other one," she mutters and runs past Jack with the skirts under her arm as if hell itself is on her heels.

"She took off with the lace," Jack observes, stripping off his shirt and throwing it promptly on the ground, fingers undoing the laces of his pants. Gabriel leans back in the water.

"That's what I carry it for."

"Maybe I should try it myself, one day."

"Maybe you should."

"Tempting." Jack grins, slipping into the tub and sending water sloshing over the brim. For the briefest of moments, his eyes flash the black of the bottomless desert wells, and he leans forward brushing the tips of his fingers against the leather pouch Gabriel wears by his medallion.

"For all the wrong reasons," Gabriel mutters, and Jack snorts, spraying him idly with water with a flick of his wrist.

"While you were getting entertained, I'd been gathering information. Now, I don't know if I should tell you anything at all."

"Are you pouting?"

"Am not, little cub."

"You are," Gabriel laughs, throwing his head back.

"Hush. Or I'll bite you. And, am not."

"Whatever you say. What's the story?"

"So, it's a big bug, and I hate bugs." Jack rolls his eyes. "From the woods."

"Did it escape, or had the dryads let it go?"

"Either way, I haggled up to three hundred, so you owe me." Jack rubs absentmindedly the scar on his neck. "You could wash my back."

"Does it still hurt?" Gabriel straightens and covers his fingers with his own, mindful of Jack's amused stare.

"This one is here to stay, cub."

"So you're saying."

"I'm also saying you could wash my back," Jack retorts, watching him get up and out of the tub. "It's a big centipede, as I gathered, so it's venomous, and so far it got cows, a dog, though I think the mutt just run away, and a horse from under a local guard."

"From under?"

"Well, it got the poor sod too, left him half-digested when it vomited on him, but first, it got the horse. According to the witnesses because there were some, apparently. They ran away with the utmost bravery."

"Anything else?" Gabriel dries himself with the cloth.

"I think they were lying about the number of cows, but that's expected." Jack stretches in the tub, getting more comfortable. "And also, wash my back," he adds when he hears Gabriel moving behind him, and for a moment Gabriel considers the request in the earnest. At least, until he puts his palms on Jack's shoulders and pushes, dunking him under the surface of the water, cutting short the beginnings of a shrill shriek amidst flailing hands.

"Washed."

"You asshole!" Jack spits out the water, almost snorting. "Stop smirking!"

"No."

"I'll bite you, that's a promise now!"

* * *

"You could help me," Gabriel mutters through gritted teeth while kneeling over the slightly bloated goat with a drawn dagger.

"No. Suffer. You're baiting the bug, and I'm going to stand here, upwind."

"Asshole."

"Only as much as you are." Jack flicks a stray fly off his sleeve. "Now, hurry with it, I want this over so we can go talk with the dryads about keeping their pets on a shorter leash. Besides, that was your idea, not mine."

"Because you're being an ass and refusing to find it."

"I hate bugs, therefore, I will not talk to it."

"Sombra's rubbing off on you." Gabriel starts to carve the goat and the stench coming from its guts is nigh unbearable.

"I can feel my eyes watering from here. My condolences," Jack quips, far too entertained by the whole ordeal.

"I'm far from being inclined to believe it's honest."

"It's not." Jack settles down in a spot under a tree trunk, sheltered from the side by brush and fallen branches. He rummages through the sack in search of something as Gabriel finishes preparing the bait. "Come here."

Gabriel wipes his hands on his pants, ignoring Jack's empathetic sounds of disgust and slowly walks to him.

"Shit. You stink now." Jack extends his arms to pull him closer and let him nestle between his legs. "Here," he presses a handkerchief to his nose and Gabriel inhales. It's moss, resin, and musk, drowning out the reek of the carrion. Fingers in his hair trace whirling shapes and he closes his eyes, one hand resting on the hilt of the sword lying across his thighs - until his senses curl and fold in rhythm with the forest breathing.

Only the hand moving away from his eyes - fingertips brushing over his eyelids - and a small flask pressed to his lips bring him to the present. Jack indicates the direction with a slight shift of his shoulder and Gabriel nods, the liquid burning in his throat and veins. There will be a price to pay. There is always a price to be paid, sometimes in advance.

The forest speaks as he rises with the hand on the hilt of his sword, listening to the sounds of the disturbed undergrowth. The bait had worked, too well even. Gabriel leans back.

"Two."

"I noticed," Jack hisses back.

"You could've talked to them."

"Excuse me for not wanting to feel like something's crawling all over my thoughts for the next month or so."

"Tell me that after it eats me."

"Now I'm hoping one of them does eat you for real."

"You don't."

"Well, I'll settle for a nibble and a bite now."

Jack moves behind, and Gabriel takes off in the opposing direction while both centipedes hiss and butt their carapaces over the goat's carcass. As long as they're busy, the odds are favorable. Which, of course, means shit, because as soon as he moves into the position, the one closest to him backs off slowly, maneuvering its segmented body with the meticulousness of something that cannot simply reverse. Even as he tries to still, it gives out another kind of hiss. There is a certain pitch to the whizz of pressurized air, the pattern to the clicks, and the tone to chitin plates scraping against one another. A male, and that would make the other one, now moving over the bait in his direction, a female. A breeding pair, together.

"Distract the noisy one!" Gabriel, running, shouts over the hiss.

"Me and what army?" Jack screams back from the other side, actually nailing one of the creature's eyes twice with an improvised pinecone. Gabriel would sympathize, if not for the fact it's a centipede. And Jack always had a penchant for throwing objects, especially at other sentient creatures, but that was a thought better left to explore when not being charged by a giant bug steadily gaining in speed. At least, he managed to gain the attention of the male.

"I hate bugs!"

"I know, you don't have to repeat yourself all the time!" Gabriel forms Aard around the hilt - aiming at the ground, and giving himself more momentum for the jump as the female bears down on him - to land on its back just behind the head.

Also, to slip on the smooth carapace.

The centipede is slow to react, but it still twists after him, leaving him thrusting the blade between the segments to keep himself from falling, not even upright but awkwardly leaning sideways, almost half-sitting with one leg curled up.

"You good?" Jack sounds breathless.

"Yes," Gabriel screams over the loud clacking and hissing, pushing the blade deeper into the tissues. He's missing all the vital organs at this angle, but with any luck, he might nick a sack with the digestive acids. The centipede bucks and swings back under him. He lowers himself - almost lying flat against the carapace - when the mandibles flap above him, the interlocking segments of hard chitin preventing the female from reaching him.

Until it does something seemingly too clever to be intentional.

Its whole body smashes against the tree trunks, and Gabriel barely avoids having his arm pulverized between the wood and the centipede’s bulk - the impact itself sending waves of aftershocks along his nerves and loosening his grip on the sword. He can only let go, pushing with his feet against the carapace to give himself more momentum and gain distance as he lands, rolling immediately away from the female's legs hitting the ground in a frenzied rage.

He's at a disadvantage with his sword lost, the daggers useless now.

"Coming through!" Jack calls from much closer than before, and only a second later Gabriel feels another body crashing into him, sending both of them flying from the path of the male barreling straight into the other centipede as it cannot correct its course after its prey.

Gabriel spares a glance at Jack springing back to his feet. His chest heaves with the exertion and his lips are parted with the beginnings of an excited grin, the tongue slightly pushed forward and nostrils flaring as if he is a wild animal scenting the forest air. It's captivating each and every time, this feral abandonment Reinhardt tried hard to subdue and extinguish with training even when Ana told him not to bother with it.

"I get your sword back, you wash my back for real this time?"

"Deal," Gabriel mutters under his breath.

"Deal," Jack smirks at him. Under the moonlight, his eyes appear to run black but it's only the pupils blown as wide as the irises are, and Jack takes off toward the centipedes swiping and biting at each other as they fail to disentangle without becoming more and more aggravated.

Cautiously, Gabriel moves back, fingers ready to form a sign if it comes to this, and Jack weaves between the swinging legs, his palm finally curling around the hilt. He pulls hard, but the angle is wrong, and the female notices the tug, hissing in distress. The male reacts.

"Fuck!" Jack evades the first strike still keeping his grip on the sword, almost thrown over to the other side of the female but loses his balance and shrieks in pain when a mandible catches him in the face spraying blood on the bark. Gabriel finishes forming the sign. The resulting blast of magic is enough to throw Jack back and confuse the centipedes. Still, the idiot refuses to let go of the hilt even when hurt, and luckily, this time the blade dislodges. He hits the ground with a crunch of breaking branches and another shout of pain.

It doesn't stop him from getting up and lobbing the sword in an arc over the beasts. It embeds itself in the undergrowth in front of Gabriel.

"See, I got it," Jack calls from the other side. "We have a deal. So let's finish this."

"You're a goddamn fucking moron!"

"That's why you love me," Jack sing-songs, unsheathing his own sword, twirling it around once in his hand with an added flourish - grinning like a madman with half his face soaked in blood.

"I tolerate you, that's different!"

"And that's why I love you too!"

As always, a discussion best saved for a time they're not having it over two giant insects that had successfully separated one from the other just now, and preferably to be undertaken at some nebulous future moment when Gabriel feels like being philosophical and questioning.

And shitfaced drunk.

"Take the..." Before he can finish, the male centipede hisses and lurches at Jack, probably seeing him as the immediate threat - and Jack dances out of the way, visibly leading it away from the female. "...yeah."

"I'll get the first kill," Jack taunts him.

"As if."

It's on, and regardless of the circumstances Gabriel smiles, moving into the female's field of view, noting how there is a kink where the chitin segments curl around the wound his sword had inflicted, and along with the smell of the carrion wafts the acrid aroma of the burn. With the centipedes and most of the other giant insects, there were only four strategies viable: wolf pits where it impaled itself under its own weight, severing the nervous cord behind its head, doing enough damage from below, or magic. The fifth method, though...

They were one disposable angry peasant mob short for it to work.

Gabriel keeps from the female's range - circling it as it turns after him, considering his approach, and in the end deciding to utilize the same maneuver as previously, fingers forming the sign again. Mid-jump, he slips a dagger into his left hand and wedges it behind a plate without delay to gain support as he lands - a bit too far from the centipede's head. Not a problem as he's still a little out of the reach of its maw but he needs to move further on its back. He jams the sword sideways under the next plate and shifts, sliding forward - alternates with the dagger until the centipede looks about ready to roll over to get him off its back. The short blade breaks under the pressure the segments he has it forced between put on it.

But Gabriel's already bracing with the sword raised and pushes it down below the edge of the looser plate the female has over its head with all his strength, more feeling than hearing things snapping and crunching under the steel. Then, he twists the blade from side to side.

The centipede crumples to the ground with the grace of a flying pig that just got disenchanted even though the impetus carries it a few meters along its path.

The length of its body spasms erratically as its scant nervous system tries to make sense of the damage done. Gabriel repeats the twist and cut again, to be sure, and rips the sword back - now jumping off the centipede and putting some distance between himself and its death throes - to the litany of 'fucks' screamed from the side with the varying volume, the most more muffled than not.

Which is fair because Jack, smeared from head to toe in brownish-green blood and some dirty yellow remains of the other insect insides, is just about crawling from under the other centipede. Also, frantically ripping his slowly blackening in places shirt off.

"Do you need any help?"

"Fuck you! There are bug guts all over me!" Jack tosses the smoldering now fabric to the ground. "That was my favorite shirt!"

Gabriel only rolls his eyes withholding any scathing remark and walks to him with a small detour to retrieve the pack on the way.

"Sit, and get at least some of it off," he throws Jack a cloth. "And give me a minute, I need to clean your cheek."

"Needn't bother, little cub."

"It's still open. You're not healing properly, so don't 'little cub' me, you horned dolt, am I clear?"

Jack at first opens his mouth but then there's only an angry snort coming from him, and he dutifully starts to wipe with the provided cloth, letting Gabriel sit in front of him and rummage in the pack for the supplies he needs.

"Okay, but the horned dolt was actually good."

It's Gabriel's turn to snort, and then laugh, as he tries to glare at Jack.

"You are a horned dolt, after all. Get down," he points to the ground. As soon as Jack complies, Gabriel rubs his face with the antiseptic - ignoring the hissing coming from Jack. The wound is still open and bleeding.

"See. It's healing."

"Not as it's supposed to. There should be stitches."

"If I see you with the needle, I'm kicking you in the face!"

"You were thrashing all around then." Gabriel finishes cleaning the cut. "Did you get burned anywhere?"

"I should be asking how's your arm."

"It's fine, don't try to change the subject, turn around," Gabriel orders Jack despite the comically annoyed face he pulls as he complies to show the extensive swath of blistered skin below his shoulder. "That's it. You're wearing armor until this thing gets sorted out."

"It's constraining."

Gabriel dabs the wound with more force than necessary, maliciously enjoying the resulting yelp.

"It's keeping you from getting your dumb ass hurt," he punctuates each word with another swab, noting how the destroyed layer of the skin does not peel off. The last time Jack got splashed with corrosive fluid, the dead skin had been already flaking off by itself in mere minutes, and the scar tissue had faded after a week or two. "Shut up," Gabriel adds preemptively and shifts to lean his forehead against Jack's shoulder. "I don't... You're in more pain than you should be because something's not right and you're not telling me."

"So you do care," Jack responds with a note of triumph in his voice and Gabriel exhales as he curbs the overwhelming urge to punch him out of sheer frustration.

"Yes. Yes, I do care, you dumb fucking moron, so what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong, little cub. I just need to recuperate, and that takes time."

"What time exactly?"

"I don't know, a few months, maybe a year," Jack shrugs.

"You're not weaseling out of proper armor now."

"I'm not 'weaseling' out of anything, they're damn chirpy murderous ankle-biters and I resent the comparison."

"Of course you object to that one, out of everything," Gabriel laughs, patting Jack's other shoulder lightly.

"You know what's in those little heads non-stop? Murder!"

"You made your point."

"It's like they wake up and ask: 'hey, what's for breakfast?', and the answer is always 'bloody murder'."

"I think I get it."

"And then, 'hey, let's do something fun', and other weasels are 'what?', and the answer is 'bloody murder', and they all cheer!"

"Yeah. I see absolutely no similarities, at all. None whatsoever," Gabriel chuckles to himself, still staying with his forehead pressed against the warm shoulder as Jack leans back a bit. "You're still not getting out of properly gearing up."

"Well, fuck."

"We should get to the grove before the morning breaks because you need to wash all this off, you stink worse than the goat now."

Jack sniffs loudly, his whole frame moving with the action.

"I think I've lost my sense of smell. Weird."

"No, that's the antiseptic."

"Really? It can do that?" Jack huffs the air with a renewed interest.

"Because your whole cheek is covered in it. Get used to it until we get you sorted out." Gabriel shifts back with reluctance and climbs to his feet. "C'mon. We should get going."

"Whatever you say, little cub."

"Bug guts. All over you. You hate..." Gabriel loses the line of reasoning when Jack, with the cloth thrown over his shoulder and the sword in hand, passes him - stalking towards the corpse of the female centipede. "We can leave that for after we..." And Jack takes a swinging kick that connects with the underside of the insect sending its whole frame wobbling. "Bugs. You hate bugs."

Jack takes to looking attentively at the centipede while pacing down the length of its body, ultimately squatting in a chosen specific spot. Without delay, he slits the belly and waits as the insides spill through the cut, between them fall slightly misshapen spheres, milky, partially translucent, each no bigger than a clenched fist.

"They're fertilized, and they usually keep only one adult pair around." Jack brushes his fingertips over the surface of the eggs. He pauses only to pick some out and puts them all on the soiled cloth, ready to bundle them up.

"Feeling gracious?" Gabriel muses over the unpacked supplies he's gathering.

"Maybe. Because there will be a gap in generations they won't be able to fill, and that could kill the whole population."

"I didn't think you'd see a problem with this."

"They're controlling the numbers, or at least they were until those slipped the leash. I find them icky and disagreeable but there's a need for them."

"Ecology at its finest and most murderous." Gabriel tilts his head.

"Oi!" Jack turns and sticks his tongue out at him.

It's easy to forget things Jack is - or isn't, for that matter - but then he slips. He always slips. He is vain and pernicious, but no more than the nature itself is; demanding and unreasonable, yet caring when no-one expects it. A strange thought it is, this question that nowadays rears its ugly head more than ever, and Gabriel can't help wondering how much of what Jack is, is Gabriel's own doing? Wouldn't he be better off away from here, never having taken pity on a child lost in the woods? But then, Gabriel is selfish. Even daring to imagine the constant of Jack's presence being gone is something he dreads - and now it's a possibility it may happen not because Jack's bound to grow bored and leave, but because whatever's wrong with him will kill him.

"What, the bugbear's got your tongue?" Jack looks at him quizzically, the bundled in the cloth eggs held in hand, the sword sheathed already. "I'll toss a coin for your thoughts."

"Nothing." Gabriel shakes his head and shoulders the pack. "Let's get going, you look dreadful."

"I look great, always. Majestic, even."

"Yeah, not right now," Gabriel turns, trying not to dwell on his now foul mood as he marches, Jack fast on his heels keeping quiet - and this again is unsettling because the lack of the banter, of the jabs and of the barbs, leaves an absence of the distraction. And without the distraction, his thoughts run in circles of worry and anger, and something else he cannot put the name to - or the other way around, he knows what it is and still refuses to name it. "Just fucking say something," he grinds out without looking back.

"So you could be more vexed with me?" The tone is level, and maybe curious.

"Don't..."

"I need not be in your head to see it. You're really angry with me, then," Jack continues with a note of dejection in his voice, "if you think I'd seek your thoughts on my own."

"That's not what... I trust you not to." The strangest of it all is, he truly does, but it's something easy to fall back on when angry.

"You're still accusing me of it," Jack points out.

"Because you're fucking lying to me, so maybe you're lying about this too."

"I had never lied to you. Why would I do it now?"

"Omission is a lie." Gabriel refuses to look at Jack who now keeps to his side, and with no answer incoming, he only grows angrier.

"Then you should ask," Jack responds with a click of his tongue as he overtakes him. Gives him a hard, lingering look paired with a crooked half-smile, too, before he turns and skips forward. "You wanted to hurry, cub."

"This is not over."

"Of course it is, cub, because you never ask, do you?" The remark itself is full of reproach and disappointment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's some Elder Speech in this one, I bent backwards trying to work out some rudimentary grammar out of what's out there, and tried to fill in the gaps with the same influences original Elder Speech has. Translations are at the end, but I think it's also fun trying to fill in by yourself while reading what they're talking about exactly.

Gabriel broods foregoing any further attempts at having a conversation and this time he's thankful for Jack ignoring him - until the brief vibration of the medallion when they pass through the boundary of the dryad grove brings him out of the dark reverie. The air he inhales is rich with the smell of berries and coniferous trees, the light comes from no obvious source, and in front of him, Jack suddenly whips back as an arrow flies past him.

"Oi! You stupid bitches," he screams in retaliation, "at least hit or miss proper!"

True to his words, some blood trickles down from the gash on his arm, and Jack almost dives forward to evade the other arrows fired at him while still shouting profanities, at least until a reverent whisper carries over the breeze as dryads emerge from their hiding spots.

"Wasn't that hard, was it now? I want to speak to your tree-mother."

Jack strides forward ignoring the way the dryads congregate around and try to touch him in passing - which absolutely has nothing to do with the patch of blooming flowers springing up from the bloodied stone. Only it does have everything to do with it, and Gabriel pauses on the way to pick two of the cornflowers not sure what he intends them for. When he catches up, Jack sits in the grass surrounded by a circle of the adoring dryads responding to his every question.

Gabriel finds a spot away from them but close enough to hear the indistinct chatter, some of Jack's words carrying over the murmur of the other voices. He turns the flowers in his hand, a gesture to keep himself busy while paying only the nominal attention to his surroundings. The touch sliding over his shoulder and fingers wedging below the hardened leather come as a surprise. He glances at the dryad tilting her head now at him with her eyes half-lidded and parted lips stretching in a little smile that carefully shows no teeth. Gabriel just raises his eyebrows as she moves closer. Soon, her arms circle his neck and she is close to sitting on his thighs.

"Hands off and where I can see them, you tree harlot," Jack almost snarls from where he stands above her and the dryad shies away with haste, coy and supplicant, stealing glances at them both. "Scram! Now! Fucking tree whores thinking they can touch anything they want only because they want to!"

Gabriel slips the flowers behind the pack as Jack sinks to the ground next to him, still ranting with an amazing variety of choice words, keeping his eyes steady on the visibly pouting dryad slinking back to her sisters.

"The pond is there. You need to clean yourself so I can dress your back properly."

This grabs Jack's attention, and he tries for the same sultry expression the offending dryad wore on her face the moment before. It's ridiculous, even without the dried insect viscera in his hair.

"I remember someone offering to wash my back in exchange for his sword?"

"Not like this. I'm serious," Gabriel adds seeing Jack bat his eyes, adding whole layers of absurdity to his attempt to act seductive. "Stop it, you look about as captivating as Sombra put in a gown."

"There's really no making you happy, is there?"

"I'll be happy when your back is taken care of." He nudges Jack's arm with his hand. "C'mon. You can tell me all in the meantime."

"All?" There's a flicker of darkness swiping over the blue and white of his eyes and Jack smiles. Gabriel doesn't deign to answer and points in the pond's direction, watching Jack get up with a groan and plod to the bank where he proceeds to make a spectacle out of losing his boots and pants. Several of the dryads hiding in the reeds are certainly appreciative of it.

"Get into the water, no stalling," Gabriel mutters while gutting the bag to find everything he needs. Truth be told, he could use a bath too, but he's not going to risk a bigger incident, especially not with the same dryad slowly inching closer. "Vatt'ghern. Infertile," he tells her in a low voice.

Any pretense of interest she might have carried is immediately extinguished by an expression bordering on offended. The scoff coming from her is drowned by the sound of water splashing and a scream.

"Melitele's tits, it stings!"

"And if you don't do it, it will only get worse!"

"I'd rather sleep in an ant nest!" Jack sputters between dunking himself under surface and vigorously rubbing his hair to get the crusted remnants of the centipede out of it. "Or have my mouth stung by a bee!"

"Do I want to know?"

"No. It was embarrassing. The honey didn't help."

The image of Jack with his lips all swollen and puffy is enough to elicit a snort out of him. When he looks up, Jack's staring back at him from the water with an amused tilt to his head.

"Made you laugh, little cub."

"Are you done?"

"Oh, I don't know about that."

"You're crazy if you think I'm going to look." Gabriel turns his head back down to the preparations, mixing the crushed herbs with the lard.

"Fine, be this way," Jack huffs, splashing some more before he decides it's enough, and he marches out of the pond. With no additional prodding, he sits in front of Gabriel with his back turned to him. Droplets of water and some duckweed stick to his skin and Gabriel brushes them off with the cloth before applying the ointment.

"So why did they let the bugs run off the leash?"

"Tree-mother's been asleep for generations, and now she's dying, so their control over the grove is slipping."

"They're not true, are they?"

"Mixed. They have a cozy agreement with the men in the village, once a year they get a kid or three out of it, some other in-between."

"You'd think there would be more of them." Gabriel puts finishing touches to the burn and moves to the graze on the arm.

"Do you see any boys here, cub?"

"This much, I've guessed. They're not going to keep this place for much longer."

Jack turns around and shifts to his knees.

"I could give them time. A lot of it, to last for generations more."

"Could, not would," Gabriel notes while slicking back blond hair from Jack's face to inspect the wound on his cheek, reddened and hot but bleeding no more.

"They have nothing to offer in return that I'd want."

"You could ask some to lie with you, they'd probably fight one another for it."

"The key is want. But," Jack looks at him expectantly, and his palm covers Gabriel's fingers resting on his cheek, "I could do it for you, little cub. Do you call upon the Covenant and pay the price?"

"I do," Gabriel answers after a moment of hesitation, remembering the last time Jack had asked him the same. "Wait."

He reaches for the cornflowers and fits them behind Jack's ear - making sure the stems hold in place. The smile he is given in return is full of unspoken words.

"You'll make me think you care, cub," Jack drawls in content tones. He moves closer and splays his fingers on Gabriel's thighs, their noses almost touching.

"Pants."

"Do I have..."

"Yes, you do," Gabriel cuts short the petulant whine by thrusting the bundle of cloth in his face.

"Since when do you always have a spare pair?" Jack grumbles under his breath - backing off and getting his feet into the pant legs.

"Since you insist on promenading buck naked all the time."

Jack freezes with the trousers around his knees and stumbles a bit.

"Was that a pun?"

"Maybe."

"Commit to it, then, so I can hate you proper for it."

"No." Gabriel raises his eyebrows.

"Careful, cub, you're like a spring's fawn on a winter’s first ice." Jack pulls the pants up, ties the strap, and stretches before turning on his heel. "Coming?"

"Wait," Gabriel calls out after him, following closely behind. "You didn't name the price."

"And you had not asked before agreeing," Jack flashes him a wry smile over his shoulder. "I'm trusting you to keep the word given and pay back what is owed, little cub."

"I can't do that if..."

"Hush, little cub."

Jack leans down and picks up a broken stone, barely breaking his stride. The dryads flock to the sides but keep their distance as he stops in front of a wilted tree, looking at it attentively with his head tilted back. The gnarled branches spread in a canopy above the clearing, the aged roots pierce the ground around the massive trunk except for the path free of any growth on which Jack stands with his bare feet braced on dirt and stones. His left palm smoothes over the cracked bark. The impression Gabriel has that Jack in his vindictiveness aims to teach him a lesson evaporates when he speaks.

"You're so old that you remember the time before them. You've earned your peaceful sleep, many times over. But you left the children alone without guidance." He grips the stone in his left hand and with a wince cuts the inside of his right palm with it, slow and deep. "So sleep longer and dream, and from those dreams let the seed come that will grow a sapling to continue in your stead so the children are taken care of."

Fingers smear the blood on the trunk before Jack presses his hand to it. Into it. Gabriel's medallion jumps violently straining against the cloth of his shirt and the chain - trying to break free before it falls slack as suddenly as it had reacted to the magic.

He finds himself moving even before the bloodied stone slipping loose from the grip Jack had on it registers fully in his mind. He almost slides, ending in a crouch with his arms outstretched and catching Jack's full weight before he hits the ground in a dead faint. He's cold, so cold, wracked by shivers, and his breath burns Gabriel's cheek.

"I need something to warm him up," Gabriel barks an order at the surrounding dryads, undoing the buckles of his armor with one hand while he cradles Jack to himself with his other arm. He throws the chest plate awkwardly to the side and strips his shirt - hands are holding out furs and worn out blankets. Gabriel grabs as many as he can and wraps them around himself and Jack, pulling him closer, tangling their legs together before he lies back on the ground. Jack, with his face cradled in the nook of his neck, is still running hot and cold, skin frigid to the touch and each exhale scorching, trembling with no respite in sight.

"Fuck." Gabriel purses his lips unsure anything he does and could do is even helping.

Above them, the dead branches sprout green leaves and flowers bloom filling the air with a sweet aroma but he can only think about running his hands over the hair on the neck of a great old stag gasping painfully for its breath, of curling his fingers around the arrow shafts before ripping them out. He remembers the weight of the knife he had plunged into its flesh, no, not the swiftest of deaths, and the blood pooling beneath them - seeping into the ground to give birth to a miracle - and it is the knife he feels between his fingers twined into blond locks.

Where he sat at the edge of the river, Jack had laid with his head in Gabriel's lap unaware of the attentions of rusalkas and nymphs focused on him as he trembled with the same kind of chill clinging to his skin, lips blue at the edges and warmed on the inside by his breath. Gabriel had asked then, bound by curiosity, and the one with the crown of water lilies in her damp hair almost laughed at his question.

"Silly man," she whispered with the shimmer of a stream spilling over the rocks, her dark eyes glinting, "it is no fun when he sleeps."

As enigmatic answer as ever, and no less he came to expect from creatures of her ilk - speaking in riddles unless they truly want something - but one that explained enough. He had spent the rest of the night with fingers tracing the jagged grey scar under which a steady pulse ran. And in the same fashion Jack's skin slowly warms as his breath cools and shiver subside. Soon, the hand resting on his chest shifts slowly to touch the leather pouch on the string.

"Never take it off," the voice in which Jack speaks is barely audible. "Tell no one."

"I won't. I wouldn't." Gabriel looks at his face where under the lashes only a sliver of blue glimmers. "What did you take for it?"

"I wanted you to catch me," Jack murmurs against his skin.

"You couldn't have..."

"I trusted you to catch me, little cub. And you did."

"That's fucking ridiculous, you twat," Gabriel laughs. It is a strained thing that leaves his throat raw and hurting. "And I was asking about the flower. What was the price of the flower?"

"A kiss."

"A kiss," Gabriel repeats after him because it is even more preposterous than expected.

"Now," Jack puts a finger against Gabriel's lips, stopping whatever he might say, "a kiss had been asked, and a kiss had been given. It is not for you to decide what makes a kiss to me."

"A kiss. Was it worth all of that?"

Jack shifts and moves so that his elbows rest on the sides of Gabriel's head. He looks down at him.

"Why do you want me to tell you it was not, cub?"

"Because when you get what you want..." Gabriel swallows past the dryness in his throat. "You will leave, won't you?"

Jack chuckles with his lashes lowered and his head inclined curiously to the side, lips pushed forward almost in a pout.

"My foolish little Gabriel, why, oh, why would I leave if the only thing I want is you? Have I not made myself known?"

It's only natural for Gabriel to tug on Jack's hair to pull him down until their lips meet and he coaxes the mouth open with his tongue, slow and unbothered - nothing to wax poetic about the kiss itself - but there is something zesty to the flavor, and he knows it is magic. He is not the one for flowery words - it's been always Jack's domain - but it's pure unbridled chaos burning bright he savors, and he wonders if what Jack tastes himself as his eyes flutter closed are the bitter remnants of the tincture on his own tongue. Just a kiss, nothing special. He breaks it off, not really to breathe but to admire the content expression Jack sports.

"How's that for a proper kiss?"

"I think I should tire myself more often if that's what waiting for me then," Jack licks his lips, a meticulous and deliberate affair, almost teasing. Gabriel moves to repeat only to be stopped by the light but insistent press of the hand on his chest and he looks into now somber face.

"Do not force yourself any more for my sake, little cub," Jack speaks with a note of melancholy. "You do not lie with the menfolk."

If Gabriel had ever needed any proof of Jack honoring the privacy of his mind, this was it - or maybe the testament to Jack's presumed duplicitousness putting to shame any scheme of the Lodge if he weren't too impulsive for any plot of his to last for more than a few days. So he just laughs, bumping his head against the ground, enjoying the confusion flitting across Jack's face as he stares him down.

"I didn't get the impression... it is a laughing matter, cub?" He asks in a strangely conflicted voice, at which Gabriel can only laugh more.

"No. No, it isn't," Gabriel chuckles. "But you know what's the laughing matter? Your face."

"Not very nice, little cub," Jack huffs, still obviously lost, and Gabriel raises his palm to his cheek to cup it - mindful of the cut.

"I don't fuck men because of you."

"I fail to see how that pertains to..."

"Bloede arse," Gabriel grins and unbalances him with a push, easy with Jack only keeping his weight on one elbow, and rolls, landing on top of him - which doesn't go at all according to the plan judging first by the hiss, and then a squeal.

"Sorry. Forgot about the..."

"Nature's all fun and things," Jack shifts uncomfortably under him with his face scrunched in vexation, "until you've got a pinecone up your asscrack."

"What?"

"Just move, cub, now."

And Gabriel loses it again, laughing with his face buried in his neck.

"I'm serious! Get off!" Jack swats at his head with the free hand. "I'll fucking bite you!"

"Sorry, sorry, just..." Gabriel backs off and sits up, observing as Jack moves too - wincing and awkwardly leaning to the side, until he reaches back to dig out the offending pinecone. Which is no pinecone at all, only the most curiously shaped stone, porous, full of holes and dimples, with surface strangely polished, maybe melted.

"Oh," Jack clicks his tongue. "It's starmetal."

Gabriel may as well embrace the fact the world itself, and all the powers that be, conspire against him in his moment of vulnerability - and that moment might be lost.

"How would you know, you never paid any attention to those lessons?"

"Because you could use a new sword, so I'd been looking out for it." Jack turns the lump in his fingers.

Or not.

He catches Jack's wrist and pulls him close.

"N'te dice'en an me a'baethe, en'ca minne." Seeing the blue eyes widen for a heartbeat and a breath before Jack turns his face away...

"Thaess aep weddin an. Your pronunciation is still as bad as the first time you'd tried to speak."

"Me thaess aen a'baeth."

"Ire tedd, rhenaweddin."

Jack shies away as if wanting and having are irreconcilable concepts suddenly, but Gabriel's not letting him go, not now, not yet. He tips Jack's chin up and brushes his thumb against the lower lip.

"Que tedd, allder nawr?"

Ever so slow and halting every other moment, not unlike a wild animal waiting to be spooked and take off back into the woods, Jack leans in with his head tipped to the right. At first, it's a graze of his breath, just before he presses his lips to Gabriel's smiling mouth. He allows Jack to take the charge, and the kiss is many small kisses gaining in conviction with each successive one until Jack is straddling Gabriel's legs with fingers threaded into his hair, trying to draw him closer into the embrace. The muscles under Gabriel's palms resting on the small of his back shift and twist as pure want seeps into the kiss with each grain of quartz falling somewhere in an invisible hourglass.

This time it is the need for breath that makes Gabriel push back.

"Voe'rle, en'ca minne."

A flicker of confusion flits over Jack's flushed with blood face before he chuckles.

"I believe, little cub," he whispers, "that the word you're looking for is neén'le, because you told me to stop moving."

"Just need to breathe before I drown."

"Hush. Let me enjoy this."

He has a demure look to him, one Gabriel had only seen before on sorceresses, or on strumpets seeing an absurdly generous pay in their immediate future - occasionally on Sombra when she was determined to get under some wench's skirts - but undercut with an edge of authority.

Gabriel gives in to the insistent hand on his collarbone and lets himself fall back into the blankets. Jack, with his spine bending in a flowing curve, now straddling his hips, stares at him - there is a single-minded commitment in his eyes.

"Fuck," Gabriel utters.

"That's the idea." The voice he is not sure comes from Jack or the grove itself wraps around and curls in his ears as Jack leans in putting his lips just below his jaw, exactly where he feels the blood thumping under the skin, and bites lightly with teeth that feel too sharp to be human. It morphs into an open-mouthed kiss drifting down, and then another, and another, sometimes punctuated with a little nip - each prying a subdued hiss from Gabriel - and maybe he should have taken the chance to bathe, the overly curious dryads notwithstanding. At least, as a basic courtesy, even if Jack does not seem to give a damn about it leaving a trail of kisses on his stomach as Gabriel's palms slip from his shoulders to comb through his hair. 'Fuck' is an understatement, but that's more or less the only comment he has.

The reality of the situation sinks in with fingers tugging at the hem of his pants, and the thought that maybe this isn't the best idea he's ever had filters in, which - in the grander scheme of things - somehow fits neatly into the whole puzzle of whatever this is. Because the worst of it was that not only Jack had always been full of bad ideas himself, but he also enthusiastically went along with any bad ideas Gabriel ever had on his own - and even before he goes anywhere with those deliberations the belt is off, and gone. The same goes for the laces, figuratively, and he tenses, probably pulling too hard on the hair he grips between his fingers, curiously angry over the question where and when - and from whom - did Jack learn that particular thing?

But then there's too much to feel and not enough to think about, and there's only so little Gabriel can focus on with Jack's mouth on him.

Later, Jack drapes all over him, nosing at his neck, and Gabriel knows the things will change, they have to, and he dreads it. But Jack turns his head to the side with a palm on his cheek, and, Melitele, his eyes are as blue as the mid-day sky, bluer than the cornflowers still stuck behind his ear. His lips, red and swollen, part with a smile and a whisper.

"Me esseath."

Again, Gabriel traces their graceful arch with his thumb before he takes the plunge.

"Eich'en a'bleth essea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloede arse - damn/fuck/shit - your typical multi-purpose curse word.  
> *  
> N'te dice'en an me a'baethe, en'ca minne - Stop talking and kiss me, beloved/darling - a pet name  
> Thaess aep, weddin an - Shut up, little child.  
> Me thaess aen a'baeth - Shut me up with a kiss.  
> Ire tedd, Rhenaweddin - Other time, Princeling (Queen's child) - I decided to use Rhenaweddin in reference to child of Elder Blood  
> Que tedd, allder nawr? - What time if not/but now?  
> Voe'rle - stop (movement)  
> Me esseath - Mine.  
> Eich'en a'bleth essea - Yours, always.
> 
> No, I did not forget about the dryads.


End file.
